hgfanonfandomcom-20200214-history
User blog:Haybernathy/Setting the Scene - March
Okay! So, a new month is among us, which means... a new Setting the Scene! As Anna is not here, I thought that I should run it this month. Last time we had to write a POV of anyone for Rue's death. Well, since March is the month of The Hunger Games film premiere, we should do something special, memorable... something that started it all. You're all probably thinking... "Oh. The reapings." Well, no! I am thinking of... The berry scene! By 'starting it all', I meant really starting everything... the uprisings, the rebellion. This POV can be of anyone. Peeta, Katniss, Snow, Seneca. Maybe even the audience! It is entirely up to you. So, get your entries in fast! They have to be in by the 15th so we can start voting on the 16th. Entries Lavinia's POV, by Necterine411. Berries. That’s what the Capitol citizens see in the girl on fire’s hand. They do not see what I do; that they are nightlock, a kiss of death, an escape I have tried before to reach. Will she kill herself, this girl that is linked to me in a way I could not explain even if I had a tongue? Will she kill herself for her love; not as a lamb to slaughter but a sacrifice leaping into a flame? The District 12 escort I am holding a tray of desserts out to grips the arms of her chair tightly. Somewhere, a couple yards away, the mentor is in his special viewing room, unable to stop them as the boy grabs some berries from the girl’s palm, and their intent becomes clear. Two people will win, as the Gamemakers promised; or no one will win at all. They will be dead in seconds, the poison of nightlock is a hundred times stronger than the poisons I have tried to kill myself with. I wonder if the nightlock hurts less or worse than having a tube shoved down your throat to save your life, only so you can continue to be a slave. Somewhere in the Capitol the Gamemakers’ minds are furiously trying to think of a way to get a single victor. They won’t be fast enough. My mind is trying to send a message to the girl from the woods, trying to explain to her that killing herself is her best option. That she should be happy to be given the chance. But I cannot get the sound of the girl’s singing out of my mind, the scene of the District 12 girl covering the other girl’s body in flowers. I can’t help but think of a time when I too could sing so that the birds grew quiet, the reason I begged my brother to run away into the woods where I could exchange music with the animals every day. A tiny cough jerks me from my thoughts, and I realize I have hovered too long near the District 12 escort. I retreat back against the wall, setting my tray on a table so my hands are free for the next task I am assigned. I am looking away when the trumpets blare, announcing the two victors of the Hunger Games. I glance quickly at the screen, not seeing the boy or girl but the bird that flies in the sky above them. A mockingjay. A sign. President Snow's POV, by Moviepopcorn123. I have seen so many children die. Some times I let my self think that that is why i am so cruel, that the children cause my pain. Yet, I hide behind them, I use them as my barrier in war. As I drift off in thought the mutts are jumping into a hole in the ground. The lovers wait for the trumpets and hovercrafts I know won't come. They both can't survive, I hope they know. The girl says something and they climb down, the boy weaken by his injured leg. I know I should know their names but I find it better not to get close to the tributes. Last time I did that it was a girl named Rose from district 1 she was in fact part of the first games I ever watched. She died on the last day by the hand of a boy from 6. I was broken hearten so from that day on, I wear roses. Claudius comes onto the speaker and explains that they both can't win. The lovers get over their shock and start arguing. They both seem to be ready to kill themselves. The boy removes his bandage and the girl holds her knife to her neck. A gleam passes through her eyes and she removes the knife. She goes digging in the bag and pulls out berries. I lean forward in anticipation. Then she hands the berries to the boy and a flurry of thoughts pass through my head. "WHY? HOW COME? WILL THEY DO IT? REBELS!!!!!" That last thought almost makes me want to let them die. But then they would win, its a lose lose situation for me. The girl counts down and as the berries touch her lips I scream "STOP THEM." I will not let them die, I will do thinks much worse to them, they will wish they never had thought of those berries. There families will perish and they will never be happy again. One last thought that passes through my head as I head to the door is "Now I have to remember both their names." Peeta's POV, by LilyRoseEverdeen Claudius Templesmith finishes his annocement. There's a small buzz of static, and Katniss turns to look at me. Her lips frozen in shock, her eyes wandering and searching for recognition. "If you think about it, it's not that surprising." Softly, I whisper, and slowly unsealth my knife. As quick as a viper, Katniss lifts her bow and aims it, straight to my heart. After all that we've been through? I think. I raise my eyebrow, and drop the kinfe, watching it float and drift to on the pond's waves. Staring. Katniss's face turns red, and she drops her bow. "No. Do it." I grab her arm and steady it, so she's poised to shoot. "I-I-can't." She whispers, tears dripping down her face. "Shoot Me. I don't want to die like Cato." I tell her. Cato's ripped and shredded face swims through my mind. "then you shoot me." She sounds livid. I can't I've been in love with her since forever. I can't kill her. "Fine. I'll go before you anyways." Painfully, I sit down and throw the bow and arrows. I rip off the bandages, and the flow of the blood seeps through my leg wound, spilling on the pond sand, entering the pond's lake. "N-n-n-o Peeta." She tries to slap the bandages on. "Stop. It's what I want." Her head seems to be calculating a million thoughts. "I wont live without you." "They have to have a victor" I get out. gasping. The pain is blinding. She grabs the berries. I kiss her, tenderly. Its the last thing that I'll ever feel. "on the count of three." I'm really doing it. "Three." "Wait. I want them all to see." We roll out our hands and prepare to eat. Lifting it to our throats. "W-Wait! Stop! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the 74th HUnger Games victors, Katniss Everdeen, and Peeta Mellark!" Seneca Crane's POV, by Hnhnh2 A holographic map with two blinking green lights floating above a circular table cast a eerie green glow about the whole room. The room itself is a circle, a never ending shape that encompasses within its borders a group of executioners that have taken an oath to serve the Capitol until they leave this world. We call ourselves Gamemakers. And I, Seneca Antony Crane, am their leader. I designed the arena, a complicated ecosystem that will be viewed for up to a span of two weeks before a series of explosions go off at strategic points, causing an apocalypse for those still alive. It is designed to keep all but one Tribute alive. I wish now that I had set the bombs to go off a few days before the present moment. The last two Tributes in my Games, two children from the coal miner's District, stand arguing by a lake. It's a lamentable argument; lovers should never quarrel. These two are both trying to sacrifice one for the other, and the boy has just taken off a bandage he had wrapped around his leg. I try so hard to hide the single piece of emotion, a crystal clear tear, from being seen by my coworkers. The boy is just like mine, honest, caring, and quickly putting his safety underneath that of his friends. My boy is waiting for me to come back home soon, and will probably tell me all about my own arena. i always try to listen, and encourage the propaganda fed to him by the Capitol, but sorrow creeps up on me more often than it used to. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes and laugh with him as he mimics that boy from 11 bash a girl's head in with a rock. But I just know he will. I am torn from my seclusion inside my head as another purple robed Gamemaker jostles me. They point to the screen we have all been watching for the past few days, seeing our handiwork unedited. I truly hope that Katniss girl makes it out alive, after what she did with her former ally, Rue. While the public didn't see it, I saw the compassion that was stored in every flower placed on that girls body; the respect of dying for a noble cause. I see two purple berries on the screen, held by two blood soaked hands. The two children hold them up to the cameras they can't see, and put begin to put them in their mouths. I stare at the screen in horror, knowing what must come next. The berries cross their lips, and I punch a button on a dashboard, yelling into a microphone. "STOP THEM!" I shout, with all authority I can. The next few seconds are a blur. Claudius Templesmith's voice, announcing and congratulating the two victors. Two victors? I do not fully comprehend my actions until rough hands grab me by the shoulders, and I am dragged from the room. The last thought before the bullet passes through my head is that I won't be able to see my boy, ever again. Category:Blog posts